


High School for dummies

by Fox_Pause



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Back to School, Fluff, Funny, High School, I'm Not Ashamed, I'm so sorry, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Sterek Week 2015, just shit talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Pause/pseuds/Fox_Pause
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has always been home schooled. Like, since forever. So when his father sends him off to Beacon Hills High and he's met with an overly friendly boy named Scott, a Broody hermit with eyebrows the size of MY HAND and a starry eyed boy called Isaac who all turn into scary, hairy monsters on the full moon, he's just a tad unprepared. </p>
<p>It's safe to say he's fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let's jump right in, shall we?

Its terrifying, waltzing right into the mist something new. Something he has no idea about.

That something, is school. Something that most teenagers his age have an incredible grasp of already. Whether they've been since they were five, or resumed a few years ago or hell, even just dropped out, they've all done something he hasn’t.

He's never been.

Well, that's a bit of an understatement. He's been 'schooled' like the Government requires, but hasn't _been_ , in the classical sense. he's always had the luxury of being home schooled. His mother believed in nurturing the mind to grow how it wants: naturally. Believing that the school systems way of educating wastes the mind, turning it onto some malleable grey matter that would significantly limit Stiles' ability to remain true to himself, squandering his imagination.

After all, that's all their world is. Nurturing his spark to blossom through believing. Imagining what could happen to a pile of ash if he just simply believed in himself and his abilities.

So, when Stiles is entering his last years of high school- or whatever the Americans call it, you could understand his nerves about the fact that he has, well and truly, no idea what the hell he's gotten himself into. His mother died a few years ago, and as sad as that may be, its not as sad as the fact that they've nearly been evicted three times from his childhood home this year for overdue payments. Without his mum bringing in the extra cash, they've found themselves in some deep financial shit.

And that, ladies and gentlemen is why our man, Stiles, is freaking out. Only a little. Because public school is a hell of a lot cheaper than home schooling or tutors, and frankly, John thinks Stiles needs to make some decent friends for once. (And before you ask - No, john is not counting the cat). Stiles would disagree: He has a substantial influence on the online community and talks to his overseas buddies in the chatrooms 75% of the time. Again, John was having none of Stiles' excuses. So he quickly enrolled Stiles at the local high school and before he knew it, Stiles was shuffling through the front door and into the beaten-up jeep, 'Rosco', hanging onto his mothers bag for dear life.

The drive to school was quiet, excluding the shuddering of breath every now and then as Stiles thinks of every single thing that has the potential to go wrong. He's always been one to exaggerate a situation. It begins at the conceivable- Stuttering as he's forced to stand in front of the class introducing himself to a room filled with blank stares and instant judgment, which morphs into the possibility that he's forgotten his books. Eventually, these innocent but humiliating possibilities somehow lead him to think that death is the surest outcome. He's still debating whether it's more likely that he's going to be struck by lightning, or if he's going to slip in the hallway and somehow crack his head open when he pulls into the almost-full carpark and clambers out of the car and shuffles into the hallway, towards the principles office.

And isn't the principles office just _peachy._

The principle, Mr. Argent is, to put it simply, an asshole. He's some weathered grey old man who squints way too much and has a perpetual just-sucked-a-lemon face. The worst thing of all - He makes Stiles feel like an idiot.

He draws out Stiles' file. Shuffles the papers with disinterest and gives Stiles a once over before sniffing loudly, fixing Stiles with a harsh glare.

"So. Mr. _Stillinski_. It says here you've never been to a _school_ before" Stiles must admit, that's the first time he's actually been on the receiving end of a stare could quite possibly kill him With how sharp those daggers are, he's surprised he's still in the room and hasn't ducked for cover.

"Well actual-"

"You know we don't appreciate delinquents here, Mr. Stillinski" He has to physically restrain himself from laughing outright, pinching his wrist to stop him from shouting 'BUT YOU'RE A PUBLIC SCHOOL!!' at the top of his lungs.

Instead, he simply says "I've been home schooled all my life. I have perfect scores and never failed a class."

Mr. Argent bristles a little and really, he should already know all this. It's written in his file _repeatedly_. (Extremely capable. Lacks discipline.) The one Mr. Argent has in his hands. Right now. Stiles can't help thinking to himself 'maybe the bastard is illiterate?'.

Mr. Argent glares at Stiles again as he rises from his cheap, leather chair and leans across the desk. he hands Stiles a thin piece of paper, sits back in this chair with a squeak and points to the open door.

"See yourself to class, Stillinski."

Well, then. Not off to a good start.

As Stiles ambles down the hall he thinks about how the meeting with the principle could've gone worse. Nothing comes to mind. He quickly checks his timetable, groaning when he sees he's supposed to be in the middle of his first chemistry class. He quickly makes his way to the classroom, all the while memorizing his introduction so he doesn't fuck it up and make the rest of the year so much harder on himself.

When he reaches the door, he's hesitant to knock.

There's a booming voice coming from the other side. If Stiles had to guess, he'd say it was either a really, really pissed teacher or a student who's having it out with one of their peers.

"SCOTT!MCALL!" There's a loud bang. A thud against the door and then....

Silence.. Followed by another bang, quieter this time.

"CAN YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHY YOU'RE SMILING AT YOUR CROTCH!"

Guess it's the pissed teacher.

Stiles bursts out laughing, picturing some guy in a mankini (Don't ask) smiling to himself as he assesses his nether-region under the table. The thought quickly snowballs into something he's pretty sure he saw on pornhub and, of course, the teacher chooses that moment, when Stiles has a weird kind of boner to fling open the door and scowl at the intruder.

The teacher huffs "Can. I. Help. You? Or would you rather LAUGH at your own generation's lack of etiquette or RESPECT for your elders?"

Stiles stares, eyes wide. Mouth gaping like a goldfish fresh out of water. Shit.

"I-I-uh-I'm-uh-Stiles". Fuck. There goes the calm, cool and collected exterior he wanted to project earlier. The man, he assumes is Mr. Harris judging by his timetable, is absolutely livid. Sweat pools in open pores that reach ell above his receding hairline, flaked with -GASP-grey hairs. Stiles tries his best to school his face into something that isn't the shit eating grin he's currently sporting.

"What the hell is a Stiles?" Mr. Harris leans in closer, daring Stiles to say something out of line.

"That would be me, sir" A menacing smile worms itself across Mr. Harris' face. He grabs Stiles by the backpack -his mothers backpack- and begins marching Stiles down the hallway towards the principles office calling behind him for Scott to follow.

-

Stiles has never been in trouble, excluding that one time with the horse. So to say that he's terrified would be an understatement. The kid next to him though, couldn't seem happier.

He's got a thick mop of brown hair, tan skin, a lopsided jaw and a smile that could break his dad out of 'cop mode' at the worst of times. He's also the kid Mr. Harris was screaming at earlier. He introduces himself as Scott with a firm handshake and a smile that makes his eyes go all sparkly, apologizing for getting both of them into trouble. Apparently his girlfriend is sick and he's been texting her all day to make sure she's ok. Which, yeah, Stiles thinks is kind of cute. Even if it makes him want to throw up just a little. He says it's ok and the two get to talking. Eventually Scott, or 'Scotty', invites himself over to Stiles' on the weekend, as well as inviting him to sit on his table with him and a few friends.

Stiles couldn't be happier. He actually doesn't completely fail at the friend making thing. Go him.

* * *

**NOTES**

**OH GOD. I know I'm horrible at actually keeping up with my stories, but I'm actually, like, excited for this one??**

**We'll see how It goes.**

**As always thanks for reading. I can't promise when I'll be able to update, but it should be soon. (fingers crossed)**

 

**If you want to nag me about writing this shit faster, do it here - > [MATUMBLR](http://fox-pause.tumblr.com/)**

**If you like this and possibly want more, check out my profile. (WARNING! MOST AREN'T COMPLETE!) HERE- > [MORESHIT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Pause/works)**

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The principle however, quickly brings down Stiles' friend-high. Stiles sits patiently while both Mr.Harris and Mr.Argent chew him out about the behaviour they expect him to  demonstrate as a  student of Beacon Hills High .  They go on and on about how it isn't ok for Stiles to  laugh when Mr.Harris is busy dealing with another disruptive student. They also tell him to go home.  Apparently, they need to meet the local teaching board to discuss his education and whether they have a place for a 'different' boy like Stiles at their flawless  public school.

Of course  John Isn't happy when Stiles comes home  half an hour later, as he's about to leave for his shift. Apparently, Stiles couldn’t last more than two hours at his new school before getting himself into trouble and being sent home. (Lets not tell S tiles that's a full 45 minutes more than John was expecting  from his son  on the first day .) John signs and gives Stiles' shoulder a light squeeze when he sees the kid looking at him with those fucking Bambi eyes .

"What happened son?" Stiles just fucking knows he's going to make his dad so fucking late, but he can't help it. He's always had the gift of the gab and he  _ needs _ to get this off his chest. Something his father knows entirely too much. So he tells his father all about the new school. He tells him everything, from the stiff principle that seems to inherently hate his fucking guts for no good reason, to Mr. Harris' irrational hate for the new kid (and also mentions how much he reminds him of the teacher  from the Incredibles . You mean Bernie? Yeah, Bernie! ) and about the goofy kid who got him into trouble because of his sick girlfriend and now, because of some sort of 'bro code' they're friends and how Scott's coming over this weekend to play games and junk. He tries to sound nonchalant about that last bit, but it's kind of hard when his voice keeps getting higher and higher as he speaks.  By the end, he sounds like he just got a puppy. 

John, wisely, ignores it. 

"S o, yeah. School's  kinda weird" he says, rubbing the  back of his neck. 

"The real world will do that to you, kid" John fixes Stiles with a knowing look, before apologizing to Stiles for having to head out to work so soon. 

Stiles gives his dad a hug as he leaves. He's not too old. "Bye Dad! have fun at work!"

Stiles turns back into the house, ready to close the door. John turns back to Stiles " Thanks . Oh, and Stiles?" 

Stiles pauses mid-step  "Yeah dad?

"You're grounded"

Stiles is left gaping . A gain . T wice in the one day, as John scurries  into the cruiser .  Stiles shakes his head. He supposes that's fair, but come on. He made friends. R eal, I-can-actually-touch-you friends. Fist pump for him. 

-

The School calls late the next day. Some high-pitched  receptionist he can't even remember says  Stiles is allowed to go back to School on Wednesday, as long as he promises not to harass the teachers when they're trying to conduct a lesson. His dad makes him promise to be on his very best  behaviour, which he still fears won't be good enough. 

-

Walking into the halls a second time is not all that much different from the first time. Honestly, he expected it to be different. He expected it to be comfortable all of a sudden, to feel like having anywhere between 40-70 different pairs of eyes  on him  was a  somewhat  normal occurrence. He certain ly didn't want to still feel like he was going to be ostracised. But here he is, standing in the middle of the packed hallway feeling like the odd duckling in the middle of a flock much more advanced . 

That is, until a firm hand grips his shoulder and turns him around. 

Scott's standing right in front of him, smiling like an absolute fool. 

"Dude! You're here!" Stiles smiles back at him then, happy to see a friendly face. He might have only maybe, possibly , thought that Scott might've turned his back on Stiles for some strange reason. (He's an over thinker, remember?)

"Yeah. It's a school day." Scott's smile fades for a second, but then returns tenfold. He hangs his arm over Stiles' shoulder and begins guiding him down the hall towards an odd looking group of beautiful people leaning against the horribly painted lockers, saying something along the line of 'man these guys are  gonna love you'  as they approach. Which, wait. What?

They finally stop in front of the other teens, who're all giving Scott disapproving stares. All up, there are four of them. There's a  boy with a wild head of curls, a blue scarf and a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he looks Stiles up and down. Next to him is what could only be considered a goddess.  At a glance, Stiles would say there are flames delicately licking at porcelain skin, but upon closer inspection, he can see she's nothing short of perfection. Standing next to her is a brunette. Her eyes are apologetic  as she smiles slightly, he thinks that this must be Allison - judging by the red, running nose and  watery eyes. Lastly, glaring hard at Stiles, is a tall, broad-shouldered man. He's got massive eyebrows ( Stiles has the feeling that if he were to hold his and up to them, his hand would be dwarfed.), eyes that are an undefinable array of blues and greens, with inky black hair that's been spiked up. Overall, he just looks like a god dammed badass. 

"Hey guys!" Scott pushes Stiles in front of the group, turning their stares to him. "This is the guy I was talking about." Stiles can already feel his gut clenching uncomfortably. He really sucks at introductions, if that wasn't already made clear enough by yesterdays demonstration . "Stiles. This is the pack!" cocking his eyebrow at the odd description, Stiles follows along as Scott introduces  them one at a time. He gestures to the curly haired one  "This is Isaac,"  on to the flaming goddess "Lydia", then, onto the sniff ling one,  lingering slightly too long and muttering proudly  "My girlfriend,  Allison , aand lastly" he moves onto the broody-eyebrows man "Derek".  

A few seconds pass  as Stiles commit s the new names and faces to memory. Scott nudges him and he realises he was supposed to say something. "U-I'm Stiles". The redhead arches an eyebrow, flipping her hair over her shoulder before marching down the hallway , Allison trailing behind her . Stiles turns to Scott "Did I, uh, do something wrong?"  There's huffing over his shoulder.

Derek's staring at Stiles with a look somewhere between 'you're a moron' and 'I pity you'. It makes his eyebrows look funny.  "Lydia's always like that" Scott just  hums in agreement, clapping Stiles' shoulder in sympathy. 

"you'll get over it. She's not that special" Isaac says with an odd smirk, eyes darting between the other two. Maybe its an inside joke. Both boys shake their heads at Isaac with a smile, before Scott checks his phone for the time. 

"Shit! Isaac, w e're going to be late" Isaac grabs his bag, and the two run down the hallway towards their next class .  Fuck , Stiles thinks. He forgot to ask for directions to his next class. He turns to Derek, but when he see's him leaning back against the lockers almost casually, he's too afraid to ask for help. What is it about laid-back broody guys that just makes them more intimidating? 

So Stiles turns to the left, then to the right, before preforming a little twirl trying to find the room number for his next class.  Surprisingly, it doesn't work. "You need some help Stiles?" Derek's smirking at him now and GOD DAMN THAT'S HOT. 

"Me. Need help? No way. " Stiles gives Derek a look, shoving his timetable under his nose. "I can't find my English room." 

-

Twenty minutes later and Stiles is  _ finally _ standing out the front of his English room, class half over. Turns out, Derek is hopeless with fucking room numbers. The two of them ha ve been all over campus, Derek taking the lead, taking him to all the wrong rooms. When Stiles finally got the map out of Derek's hands he could've sworn the man was taking them the wrong way on purpose. They were on the opposite side of the campus. Fucking great. On the way back Derek muttered his apologies and walked with Stiles to his room, offering to carry his bag . He carried it very well, thank-you.

-

English is so, like, totally boring. At home his tutors always challenged him with  tests, always careful that what they taught him was a challenge and not a walk in the park. Which is exact ly what this is. He's kind of glad Derek made him so late. O therwise, he'd have to sit through a full -Gasp- hour of this shit. Instead of listening to the teacher drone on, he writes spells and incantations in his book. Just the simple stuff that wouldn't be noticed by anyone who didn't know the art. Considering Beacon Hills is really fucking remote, and that the  Stillinski's are one of the only families in California with a spark, He's sure he'll be fine. He enchants the book so that only he can open it - a beginners spell to set up and break. That’s as far as he gets though, before the bell is ringing and it’s time for lunch. 

This time It's Isaac who greets him, just outside the doorway. 

"How did you get here so quick?" 

Isaac frowns, gesturing to the classroom behind him. "I had math right across the hall"

"Oh" Stiles' brow furrows, but Isaac's dragging him through the hall, towards the cafeteria before he can ask any more questions. 

Sitting down with more than two people at any type of table is a completely new thing for Stiles.

Actually, It's  kinda ... Squishy. 

He's got Derek on his left, Scott on his right, Isaac directly across from him , Lydia in front of Derek and Alison opposite Scott. he didn't know what to expect when Scott invited him for lunch at 'their table' but this is kind of nice. 

Its certainly better than sitting alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING GUYS!
> 
> No but seriously, thank you. I know I sound like a broken record but it seriously makes my day when you guys either leave a kudos/comment on here or you contact me on Tumblr! I have cried when that happens AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DO IT PROUDLY.
> 
> On a side note, I turn 18 really soon and as I don't have a job, I'll probably write a birthday fic for myself instead of buying something I need, so keep an eye out for that. LOVE YA


End file.
